Book the First The Sorry Start
by jbond
Summary: A spin-off of A Series of Unfortunate Events. All credit to Mr. Lemony Snicket, please R&R.When reveiwing,please give a 1 to 5 rating.
1. Chapter 1

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A COLLECTION OF MISFORTUNATE HAPPENINGS

BOOK THE FIRST-THE SORRY START

CHAPTER ONE

Often in your life you are fleeing from something-or someone, as I am doing right now. You may think there is nowhere in the world to run to, or perhaps no one to share your secrets with. For example, just last week I trusted a man I had assigned to deliver the manuscript of this story to my kind editor, but, sadly, a team of men dressed in ballerina outfits tricked him into leaping into a river. That marks the last time I have, or ever will again, hire blind help. Luckily, the manuscript was recovered, though it was very soggy and smelled of fish. That will explain why the w rds re o ewh t f d d. Vivian Beausinclair and her siblings were not always fleeing from something-or someone, as I told you I was nine lines ago, and, to be sure, I am going to tell you that I still am. They were very rich and their parents loved them very much, and they had had a happy life. But far away, someone was plotting to turn their lives around-so that they faced south in stead of north-and steal their fortune. This someone's name was Count r.

Vivian calculated the distance between her second story bedroom's balcony and the deep pool in her backyard. You may be wondering why she would be doing such a thing as calculating the distance between her second story bedroom's balcony and the deep pool in her backyard, and if you are, it was merely because she loved doing dangerous stunts and hoped to be a stuntwoman when she grew up.

"No, it's just not worth the risk, Sandra," Vivian said to her baby sister as she came to the conclusion that it was just not worth the risk.

"Gleegoop?" Sandra asked, in her own baby language.

"Nope, I'm afraid we can't climb it either." Vivian replied. You also may be wondering right now why a small baby named Sandra whom had invented her own baby language would want to climb up to a second story balcony. So was I when I first began researching the lives of the Beausinclairs, but I have finally decided that this baby named Sandra, whom had invented her own baby language, had an eternally unsatisfied appetite for climbing. Suddenly, Klyde, the middle child in the Beausinclair family, rushed in with something urgent to tell to his sisters.

"I have something urgent to tell you!" he exclaimed. "Come quick!" There is no need to tell most of you that Vivian scooped Sandra up and they ran down the stairs and outside, closely following their brother, but, for those who like very thorough historical accounts, I will say this: Vivian scooped Sandra up and they ran down the stairs and outside, closely following their brother. 

"Shhh! Be quiet! We're near it." Klyde quietly said. His sisters followed his instructions and quietly snuck over to were he was standing, being careful to be very quiet. "It's up there. To the left." Klyde whispered quietly as he handed his binoculars to Vivian. If you are again wondering about Klyde's latest actions, then I must tell you that he was an expert hunter and tracker, and he loved nature.

"Do you mean that right there?" Vivian asked, pointing up into the sky.

"No, that's just a jet, it's nothing worth looking at. This is worth looking at." Klyde said, while pointing quietly into a particularly quiet part of the forest that surrounded their mansion.

"Augi." proclaimed Sandra, agreeing with her brother.

"It certainly is." marveled Vivian. And it certainly was. What they were looking at was a Peregrine Falcon-a very rare, quiet bird. Suddenly, out of the blue, the children heard a devastating noise. And I am sorry to say that this noise was very, very, far away from anything quiet at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Perhaps when Klyde said "it's just a jet. Nothing worth looking at", he should have said "it's just a jet. But it is really worth looking at" because it really was. If he would have zoomed in just a small bit further, he might have been able to warn his parents, to save their lives. But alas, he did not. He might have seen the hole in the jet's gas tank, or the stream of black jet fuel pouring out of the aircraft. But, alas, he did not. Or maybe he could have seen that there was no one piloting the plane, that everyone had already evacuated it. But, once again, he did not. However, there was one thing he just could not prevent, and that was the crashing of the jet into his families mansion. 

"What...?" Vivian slowly said, in absolute shock.

"Leggoran...?" Sandra said, devastated.

"Huh...?" Klyde peered at the wreckage sight, which was once their home, in awe. Suddenly the Beausinclair siblings sprung into action.

"Mother! Father!" they called out, running towards their destroyed home. No one called back. They cried out again, and again they got no answer. The Beausinclairs reached the edge of the burning heap that was their home. All hope of their parents' survival vanished right before their eyes. They wept for an hour, and they would have wept for two more if a helicopter hadn't landed in their front yard. The children wiped their eyes dry when they saw a friendly face, that of Mr. Snow.

"Hello!" he called a greeting to the children. But the Beausinclairs did not feel it was time for cheery greetings, they felt that it was time for more weeping, and so they did not do likewise. "I've some terrible news to tell you, children." he continued, like what he was going to tell them was not terrible news at all, "A jetliner just crashed into your families mansion and your parents are dead-oh, I, suppose you already know, don't you? Well, I guess that makes you orphans. Pack your bags, we have to go." he said in a calm voice, like nothing had ever happened. The Beausinclairs started weeping once again, but they obeyed Mr. Snow's orders. 

There was not much to pack, because most of their things were destroyed in the crash, which seemed obvious to the children, but it had slipped by Mr. Snow. Soon they were onboard the helicopter and looking down at the remnants of their once beautiful home. As the chopper flew through the air, Klyde thought about all that he could have done to prevent his parents' death, Sandra thought about Mr. Snow and how he talked about the crash as if it were a daily thing, and Vivian thought about how they weren't just the Beausinclair children any more, or the Beausinclair kids, or the Beausinclair siblings. They were the Beausinclair orphans. 


	3. Chapter 3

** CHAPTER 3**

The expression "one brick short of a load", like "one card short of a deck" or "one quart short of cranial fluid" does not usually mean that one is missing a card or brick or possibly brain juice, but that one is not all there, and that one is, in a sense, idiotic. However, in this historical account that I am typing furiously into my computer while crocodiles surround me in the Cordilian Crevasse, it does actually mean that one is missing a card or a brick or possibly brain juice. 

When the siblings, now orphans, got off the helicopter and were told that they would have to stay with Mr. Snow for a few nights, they discovered that Mr. Snow was one card short of a full deck when they tried to amuse themselves by playing blackjack.

"Vivian, Mr. Snow is one card short of a full deck." Klyde said. Vivian answered:

"I know, Klyde, he is a bit silly, isn't he?"

"No, I'm serious, he is missing a card. I'm afraid we can't play." her brother replied. Mr. Snow walked into the room.

"Oh, that. No, I don't exactly play with a full deck," he said, "I play a different kind of card game. You just draw cards and when the deck runs out, you lose. It's very enjoyable, actually. Taking one card out just means the game goes faster."

"Headsa?" Sandra said.

"What my sister means is that those rules seem very strange. How can you possibly win?" Vivian quickly translated.

"It's simple," Mr. Snow answered, "you just stop drawing. I would think that you children would have been smart enough to figure that out. Oh, well, they just don't educate you like they used to. Why, in my day, they taught us how to spell every number in the dictionary."

"Dasde." Sandra said, which meant "but there are no numbers in the dictionary".

"Look at the time! It's high time you orphans went to sleep." Mr. Snow stated.

"But we've only just got here. And it's still light outside." protested Klyde, ignoring the comment about he and his siblings being orphans.

"Now, orphans, you must listen to me. After all, I am far more intelligent than you, and I know when you should go to bed. Now go."

"Yes, Mr. Snow." the Beausinclairs said miserably.

That night the children did not sleep well, as no one would after their parents have died in a terrible jet crash, except perhaps a few of my most vile enemies. They tossed and turned and wept thought about their loving parents. Soon ten, eleven, midnight came and went, and then one o' clock, and then two, and then they lost track of the time. Finally they fell asleep.

At about five in the morning there came a rap at the door.

"Open up, it's me." Mr. Snow yelled. Although the Beausinclairs did not want to open up because they were extremely tired and didn't particularly like Mr. Snow, they didn't have to. He just opened the door himself and said "It's time to get up and do your chores, orphans."

"Chores? We have to do chores? But were so tired." Klyde answered.

"Yes, you have to do chores, I'm afraid. Quickly now, get dressed." he replied. "I want you to load bricks onto wheelbarrows and then take them down to the mason. He lent me five dollars eleven years ago and this is my way of saying thank you." 

"Yukiol." said Sandra.

"My sister says that it is silly to load bricks into a wheelbarrow and take them to the mason in repayment for five dollars that he lent to you eleven years ago, which he has probably forgotten about, and I agree with her." explained Vivian.

"Well, I disagree, and do you know why?" he asked the children, but he continued speaking instead of waiting for an answer. "Because the mason protests against child labour, and I whole heartedly support him. I also heard he was running low on cash to buy bricks, and I decided to be a good neighbour and lend him some, and, besides, I owe him."

"All right, Mr. Snow. How far away is the mason's house?" the children asked.

"It's up on the top of Higuty Hill. Now get up!" the siblings obeyed Mr. Snow, for what else could they do? When the Beausinclairs were dressed and ready, Mr. Snow led them outside, just when the sun was coming up.

"The bricks are over there." he said, pointing toward a pile of things that looked more like lampshades than bricks. "I have to go to work. The post office business these days is vigorous, you know. Ta ta." And then he drove away in his car.

"That's a relief. Mr. Snow is one brick short of a full load." Klyde said.

"Ichi." Sandra said, puzzled.

"Yes, Klyde, we know that he is absent minded, but why is that a relief?" Vivian said, just as puzzled as her sister.

"No, no. You misunderstood me. Seriously, he is missing a brick, just as he was missing a card." Klyde explained.

"Oh, Good. That means the load won't be as heavy." Vivian declared.

"Yatrud." Sandra said, which meant "let's get to work". The Beausinclairs loaded the bricks, one by one, into the wheelbarrow.

"Who will push the wheelbarrow first?" Klyde asked.

"I don't know. I guess I will. You can carry Sandra." his sister said.

"Nay." Sandra argued, meaning that she didn't want to be carried, she wanted to climb the hill, because she loved to climb.

"Okay." her brother agreed. They headed east for Higuty Hill, with Vivian pushing the wheelbarrow. It was a tricky and dangerous hill and it took them awhile to climb it, constantly alternating between who would push the wheelbarrow. By the time they had reached the top they were sweating profoundly, but they managed to get to the door of the mason's house. Klyde reached up and knocked on the door. In a moment, a weeping woman opened the door.

"Hello, children. What would you like?" she said tearfully. "Oh, who am I kidding, acting like nothings wrong? My husband, you see, he just, he just...passed away." she burst into tears.

"There, there, miss, it'll be all right." said Vivian, trying to comfort the complete stranger.

"We know how you feel. We just lost our parents in a terrible jet crash yesterday." Klyde said mournfully.

"Oh, I see. That's so sad." she said, and then she sobbed even louder. "My husband, he...he died because he was missing brain juice. The doctors told him that he was one quart short of cranial fluid, but he thought that they were insulting him." She started sobbing even louder than before.

"I can see why he made that mistake. I have made similar ones." Vivian assured her, and then glanced at Klyde. 

"Oh, what are those for?" the woman gestured to the bricks, finding a break in her sobs.

"Well, they were for the mason, but I guess...well, you know. They're from Mr. Snow." Klyde said.

"I'll take them, children. Goodbye, I think I need some time to myself." The children all said "goodbye" in unison(except for Sandra, who said "fraguw", which meant the same thing). She took the bricks and shut the door. 

When they got back to Mr. Snow's house, they heard what they then thought was exciting news.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

          "Orphans, I have exciting news for you," called Mr.Snow from the back of his house. 

          NOTE: Just because Mr.Snow announces to the Beausinclairs that he has exciting news for them does not imply that it is actually exciting news. I am only forewarning you against being overjoyed at the prospect of this apparently exciting but actually unexciting news, so as you will not be happy and finally think that here, in the fourth chapter of this story, the Beausinclair's bad luck comes to an end. It does not. This is a warning against believing that unexciting news is actually exciting.

          As the children entered the house their grim faces began to perk up at the thought of false exciting news that they then thought was true exciting news. "What is it Mr.Snow?" Violet asked excitedly, her siblings just as excited. He appeared from a doorway that led to the back of his house, where he was positioned before he went through the doorway that, in his situation, led to the front of the house, but, if you were already positioned at the front of the house, would lead to the back of the house.

          "Well, we contacted your parents' solicitor, and he has revealed their will to me. You are to be placed in the care of an illustrious count. His name is Count Ojar," Mr.Snow informed them.

          "Count Ojar?!? But isn't he a foul criminal?" exclaimed Klyde, here using the phrase "foul criminal", which means "dastardly law-breaker", and could describe some of my most fearsome enemies.

          "No, no, no. You're talking about Count Ofar. And foul wouldn't be the right word to describe a criminal. The word "fowl" is used to describe several types of birds," Mr.Snow incorrectly corrected.

          "But, Mr.Snow, Klyde meant "foul", as in "awful"," Vivian told him. Mr.Snow ignored her.

          "So, when would you like to meet your guardian? Today?" and then, without waiting for an answer, "All right, let's go."

          The children, despite Mr.Snow's  lack of grammar skills, agreed. Mr.Snow led them to his automobile, which is a fancy word for "car", and they all climbed in. It was a long drive across the city to Count Ojar's house, which could more appropriatly be called "Count Ojar's Dark Dungeon of Death That Slightly Resembled a House", as the Beausinclairs saw when they got there. After they all got out of the automobile, which,as I have told you, is a fancy word for "car", Sandra whispered to her brother and her sister.

          "Frithup?" she said, meaning "we're going to live _here_?".

          "I'm afraid so, Sandra. I'm afraid so," Klyde answered, taking in a deep breath. The children all stared in fear at the "house", which looked more like "A Dark Dungeon Of Death That Slightly Resembled A House". Then Mr.Snow spoke up.

          "It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" he asked them, thinking that it wasn't a beautiful place at all, which it wasn't. "Oh, well, gotta go. E njoy your lives children." With that, he hopped into the car and, before the Beausinclairs could protest, sped away.

          "Hello, orphans," said a voice that, for the rest of their lives, would send chills down the Beausinclairs' spines every time they heard it.


	5. Chapter 5

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CHAPTER FIVE

The word 'pseudonym' is a word that means the same thing as the word 'alias', which means the same thing as the words 'false name'. Sadly, all of these unpleasant words appear in this book(for, if you noticed, they just did), and some of them may, horrifically, appear more than once. An associate of mine once used a pseudonym-or alias, or false name if you prefer. The reason he was using a pseudonym-or alias, or false name if you prefer-was not criminal. In fact, he was using a pseudonym-or alias, or false name if you prefer-because he was writing a secret message to a woman dressed as a cucumber, and, in case it fell into the wrong hands-for example, the hands of the man disguised as a large loaf of whole wheat bread-he did not want to be recognized as the writer of the message. That man is now dead.

However, in this story, the vile, evil man who is using a pseudonym-or alias, or false name if you prefer-is doing so for criminal reasons. And, sadly, like most of my enemies and unlike most of my (former) associates, this man is not dead. This man's name is Count Ojar. Or, at least, this is his pseudonym-or alias, or false name if you prefer-and, as of yet, I have not been able to discover his true name. Some say he is actually Count Ofar, the foul criminal. However, I have inquired about this, and so far have been laughed at for thinking that chickens can be lawbreakers. If one of the Beausinclair children had been present, however, they would have correctly corrected this incorrect use of the word "foul"-which here means "dastardly", or "awful", instead of "chicken". 

It just so happens that this evil man who used a pseudonym-or alias, or false name if you prefer-for criminal reasons was the Beausinclair orphans' new guardian.

"Hello, orphans," Count Ojar repeated. The Beausinclair siblings slowly turned to face the speaker. 

Standing before Vivian, Klyde, and Sandra was one of the most frightening men they had ever seen. Count Ojar was tall, slim, and smelled of fish. His hair was oily black and slicked down. He had a long, pointy nose and talon-like hands. His thin arms were crossed along his chest. "I believe I said hello, orphans, now it is your turn." 

Ten seconds passed before anyone spoke. Then Vivian managed to say something. "He-hello, Count Ojar."

"There, that's better. But who said I was Count Ojar?" the wicked man, who was really Count Ojar, replied. The children let out a sigh of relief, thinking that this frightening man was not their new guardian after all. Of course, they were wrong.

"You mean, you're...you're not our new guardian?" Klyde asked. The evil count recognized the relief in his voice and frowned. He did not respond, but simply gestured towards the door of his house, or, to more accurately describe it, the door of his Dark Dungeon of Death That Slightly Resembled A House. The orphans, without saying another word, marched towards the door. Vivian turned the handle, which was notably greasy, and opened the door.

The Beausinclairs' first thoughts as they entered Count Ojar's house( or Count Ojar's Dark Dungeon of Death That Slightly Resembled A House) were all the same. They were thinking that the house(or Dark Dungeon of Death)looked just as bad on the inside as it did on the outside. Their second thoughts were all the same also. However, this thought was contradictory-a word which here means "the opposite"-to their first thought. They were now thinking that the inside of the house(or Dark Dungeon of Death)looked even worse than the outside. 

The wallpaper was torn off the wall in many spots, and in those spots were it wasn't there were stains from sauces and other unidentified liquids. A lot of the furniture was overturned, and rotting food was everywhere. The sink was full of piles of unwashed dishes, some stacked as high as the ceiling. The house(or Dark Dungeon of Death) also had a heavy, awful odor. Then the Beausinclair children realized the smell was not coming from the house, but rather Count Ojar himself, who was standing right behind them.

"Something wrong, orphans?" he asked, awaiting an answer.

"Renovodor" Sandra said, which meant something like, "Yes, this house needs redecorating and you need a bath," but Vivian and Klyde, who were the only people who could understand Sandra's language, did not dare translate this to the count.

"What Sandra means," Vivian hurriedly lied, "is that she is wondering where Count Ojar is. We all are."

"I am Count Ojar, you foolish orphans," the wicked man replied. 

"You mean...you lied?" Klyde demanded.

"I didn't lie, orphan. I never said I was Count Ojar, I was just asking you if anyone said I was."

"Oh," Klyde whispered, realizing the count was right, and also realizing that he and his siblings may have to live with this cruel, wicked, and odorous man for the rest of their lives. However, this was not the case.

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Twenty minutes later, after being shown around the house(or Dark Dungeon of Death) and seeing things so awfully horrible that it is impossible for me to describe them, the siblings were in their new bedroom, which was rather the size a closet and had no windows, and they were unpacking. Actually, there was nothing to unpack, just as their had been nothing to pack, but this seemed to have slipped by Count Ojar, just as it had slipped by Mr. Snow.

Once the children were done 'unpacking' they decided to try to take a nap. There were no beds in the room, so this was rather difficult. In fact, there wasn't any furniture at all, so there was just enough space for all of them to lie on the floor. It took them a while to get to sleep, almost a half of an hour. Moments after they had dozed off, Count Ojar burst into the room.

"Get up, orphans. You've slept long enough," the count said. Of course, the Beausinclairs had only been sleeping for a few minutes, but their villainous guardian neither knew nor cared. "I've decided my walls need painting, and that I'm not going to be the one who paints them. You are." The Beausinclairs gave a sleepy groan. They realized that, compared to Count Ojar's house(or Count Ojar's Dark Dungeon of Death That Slightly Resembled A House) , living with Mr. Snow didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. 

  



End file.
